


Little Wings

by ginwrites



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions, Pocket Monsters: Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon | Pokemon Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon Versions
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-11-08 03:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginwrites/pseuds/ginwrites
Summary: Alternate Title: "How Mimo Became a Pokémon Trainer (And Almost Gave Her Brother Several Heart Attacks Along The Way)".





	1. Chapter 1

Even though Kiawe was an early bird—always the first of the family to rise and start going about his chores even before his mother awoke for her daily round milking the Miltank—one day in early spring he was shaken out of his dreams unexpectedly. As he blinked the sleep from his tired eyes, his Marowak swam into focus, jumping up and down beside his bed and tugging urgently at his duvet cover.

“Wak! Wak!”

“Unh—… what is it, buddy?” Kiawe asked sleepily. He didn’t feel like forfeiting the warmth of his bed just yet, but his pokémon clearly had other ideas.

“Wak! Marowak!” It called again, and, with one last, mighty tug, it succeeded in pulling the warming duvet cover entirely off him.

As soon as the cool air of the room hit him, Kiawe knew there was no use in trying to get back to sleep. However, he didn’t yet don his usual attire, but instead slipped into his fluffy dressing gown and slippers. He barely had time even for that, as Marowak immediately started to tug at the hem of the garment, threatening to tear it with its urgency until Kiawe at last resigned himself to follow the pokémon outside.

His breath rose in a little semi-translucent cloud from his lips and Kiawe had to wrap his dressing gown more tightly around himself in the early morning chill. The sun hadn’t yet risen, though the first rosy fingers of dawn had begun their slow ascent above the guardian ridge of Wela Volcano. Kiawe always felt reinvigorated at the sight of it, and the crisp, cool air did wonders to dispel his residual sleepiness. It seemed Marowak was making a beeline for the barn in which some of the Tauros herd—those which preferred some shelter over sleeping out in the farm’s open meadows—should still be fast asleep.

“Let’s keep it down, yeah?” Kiawe murmured to his overexcited companion, “We don’t want a stampede on our hands first thing.”

Marowak keep its unwavering pace towards the large, wooden building, but it did obey its trainer’s suggestion, keeping its repeated calls of “Wak! Wak!” to a minimum.

An unusual hush still lay over the barn when Kiawe poked his head inside, with only the occasional scraping of hooves and rustle of hay. He lit a single lantern beside the entrance as quietly as possible, then took it off the wall so he could move around the barn and make sure everything was as it should be. Tauros leant against Tauros, radiating warmth and putting Kiawe’s mind at ease. Everything seemed to be peaceful and undisturbed.

“What is it, hm?” he asked again, looking back over his shoulder at Marowak, “What’s got you so worked up?”

Glaring from behind its skull headpiece as if to say “I thought you’d never ask!” Marowak pointed its bone club upwards with considerable urgency. A ladder leaned against one of the thick central poles which supported the wooden structure, allowing access to the upper level of the barn, where much of the hay was stored throughout the winter months. With one last glance at the sassy-looking pokémon, Kiawe began his ascent with no idea as to what might await him at the top of the ladder. It wasn’t long before he reached the hayloft, where he raised his lantern to cast light into dimly lit nooks and crannies. To his surprise, the sight that greeted him was another of his pokémon team: his faithful Talonflame. Kiawe always let her roam freely whenever they weren’t training as he knew she delighted in spreading her fiery wings and didn’t like to be cooped up inside a pokéball for too long. At that moment, however, the bird pokémon was curled up in a little nest of hay atop one of the barn’s wooden rafters. Treading softly, he approached her.

“Hey, girl. What’re you doing curled up here, hm? Didn’t feel like coming up to the house tonight?”

Talonflame’s caw, which was usually loud and piercing, came soft and low in response, as though picking up on Kiawe’s own quiet tone. He crouched down to check if she was hurt or poorly in any way, petting her feathers for a moment before moving her wing aside carefully.

“Caw! Caw!”

This time Talonflame’s call was louder and at last Kiawe could see why. At last he understood what Marowak—who had clambered up the ladder and now stood behind him, tapping its club impatiently—had been making such a fuss about. Beneath Talonflame’s body, three small, blue-tinted eggs sat snugly in their nest of hay. Their shells were intact, and warm, too, obviously benefitting from their mother’s typically high body temperature.

“Oh…!” Kiawe breathed, suddenly speechless. It was such a marvel, and such an unexpected one at that, that he felt suddenly moved. Once again his hands ghosted through Talonflame’s feathers.

“Wow… you’re gonna have some little ones running around here soon, huh? That’s… that’s amazing.”

So enraptured by the sight was he, that he didn’t hear the sound of small feet entering the barn and, following the warm glow of his lantern, clambering up the ladder in Marowak’s wake.

“Brobro?” came a small, sleepy voice, “What’re you doing out here so early?”

Perched—to Kiawe’s eyes  _ precariously _ —at the top of the ladder, rubbing her eyes, was his little sister, her hair a wild puff around her head as it hadn’t yet been tamed into the small ponytail she usually wore. In a matter of seconds Kiawe was beside her.

“Mimo! What are you  _ doing?! _ That’s dangerous!”

He picked her up with ease and lifted her feather-light frame off the ladder and up into the relative safety of the hayloft.

“I can climb up a _ ladder! _ ” Mimo huffed immediately, little hands flying to little hips in emulation of one of her mother’s authoritative poses, “I’m not a  _ baby! _ ”

“You could have  _ hurt _ yourself! You could have fallen!”

Kiawe’s brotherly concern fell on deaf ears. The little girl’s eyes had been drawn to Talonflame’s nest, illuminated by the lantern Kiawe had left beside it. With surprising speed she side-stepped her brother and bounded up to the bird pokémon.

“Woah!”

Now smiling crookedly, Kiawe joined her, crouching down once again. Mimo’s eyes were huge and round like saucers as she studied the contents of the nest.

“Eggs?”

“Yeah. Talonflame’s gonna be a mom.”

Perpetually curious, she reached out a little hand to touch them; looking at something without touching it had always been a foreign concept to her.

“Be careful.” Kiawe cautioned, knowing full well that she would proceed unperturbed no matter what he said.

Sure enough, Mimo placed her hand softly against one of the eggs blueish shells, but she did so carefully as advised.

“It’s  _ warm _ ,” she observed, looking up at her brother for confirmation.

He found himself smiling. His much larger hands were likely capable of far more damage, so it was with additional care that he too reached out to brush his fingers against an eggshell. It was true: the eggs gave off a powerful warmth, which must only be amplified by their mother’s fluffy feathers keeping them isolated from the cool air outside. Talonflame watched them from narrowed eyes, but made no attempt to nip at their fingers with her fierce beak. Instead, she cawed softly once more before shifting her red and black wing to cover her unhatched offspring back up, hiding them from view.

“Are they gonna hatch into little Talonflames?” Mimo asked, plopping herself down cross-legged amid the hay.

“Fletchling,” Kiawe corrected, “They’re going to hatch into Fletchling at first. Then as they grow older and stronger, they might evolve.”

Mimo  _ ‘oooh’ _ -ed at that, looking back at Talonflame, who had settled in more comfortably to brood and had closed her eyes. Kiawe followed her gaze, studying his pokémon with considerable fondness.

“Remember how Talonflame used to be a Fletchinder before she evolved? It happened in battle—ah, you might be too young to remember that.”

“I’m  _ not! _ I remember!” His sister protested, pulling a face that made it impossible for Kiawe not to laugh.

“Good, well,” he said, once his laughter at her grimace had subsided, “The same might happen to the Fletchling that hatch from these eggs.”

“When’re they gonna hatch?”

He smiled, unsure whether the question was born from her inquisitive nature or her all-consuming impatience. “I’m not sure. I don’t even know how long ago she laid the eggs.”

Kiawe glanced over at Marowak, who was standing only a few steps away like a solemn guardian, and beckoned to him.

“Thanks for coming to get me, buddy.”

“Wak!”

It looked pleased, its eyes closing happily behind the skull headpiece obscuring its features as Kiawe petted it fondly.

“I’d say Talonflame only just laid them, is that right? Is that why you came to get me today?”

Immediately, Marowak nodded and thumped its bone club onto the hayloft’s wooden floor for emphasis.

“Wak! Marowak!”

From atop her nest, Talonflame inched open one eye at the noise, but didn’t move. Kiawe got to his feet and ushered both Marowak and Mimo along with him.

“Let’s give Talonflame some space, yeah? We can come back later to check on her.”

Mimo clapped her hands together excitedly. “Yay! I’m gonna take good care of the baby eggs!”

“I’m sure you are,” Kiawe chuckled fondly, “Just make sure to steer clear of Talonflame’s beak, okay?”

“Yes, Kiawe…” Mimo rolled her eyes, already exasperated with her big brother’s lecturing. He knew that, he did, but he couldn’t help it.

“And her talons, too. She doesn’t have that name for nothing.”

“Yes, Kiawe...”

The little girl was making a beeline for the top of the ladder, but before she could get there, Kiawe scooped her up in his arms and lifted her into the air.

“Not so fast! Hold this.”

Once Mimo was securely holding onto the lantern and clinging tightly to him, he only needed to support her weight with one arm. Their descent down the ladder was significantly more difficult than the effortless way up had been; despite her barely noticeable weight, Mimo was prone to squirming around like a Caterpie and nearly dropped the lantern a few times before they were back on solid ground.

The Tauros herd stirred softly around them, awakening slowly from dreams of bottomless food troughs and infinite meadows to stampede across.

“Why don’t you go back to bed for a bit, Mimo. Breakfast isn’t until later and I’ve got some pretty boring chores to do.”

“What about the eggs?”

“Later—if I have a free moment—I’ll go and pay Professor Kukui a visit. He’s probably the most knowledgeable person when it comes to those kinds of things. Maybe he’ll know how long the brooding period should go on for.”

Mimo nodded avidly, hands clasped in front of her. It was obvious she was about to turn her infamous big Rockruff eyes on him, so he quickly intervened before she got a chance.

“You can come with me, if you like.”

All pretense dissipated, the little girl jumped up and down in excitement a few times. “Yay! My brobro’s the best!”


	2. Chapter 2

It was with undisguised apprehension that Kiawe lifted an excited Mimo onto Charizard’s back later that same day. The aging pokémon launched itself into the sky with such force, he wrapped both arms around his ister instinctively, holding on with only his legs. Her squeals, however, weren’t cries of fear, but of unadulterated delight.

“Wow! Everything looks so tiny from up here!”

“It does,” Kiawe agreed, following her gaze.

The farm was dropping away beneath them, bathed in afternoon sunlight.

“Look at our Tauros!” Mimo cried, pointing. “They look like Durant!”

Kiawe chuckled, squeezing her lightly. Then he dug his heels into Charizard’s sides as his grandfather had taught him long ago, when he was barely older than Mimo was now.

“Alright, Charizard! Take us to Melemele Island!”

As always when given a command, the ride pokémon accelerated without warning. A sharp curve away from Akala and they were leaving Wela Volcano behind them. Turquoise waves that glittered below were soon replaced by lush, green foliage, then by the closely built houses of Hau’oli, which huddled together as though seeking refuge from the ocean winds.

On the outskirts of the city, where houses were interspersed by gardens and open green spaces, lay Professor Kukui’s hut. Charizard landed as gracefully as was possible for a gigantic dragon of considerable age, flapping its great wings a few more times before folding them alongside its body. Before he could dismount, Mimo jumped from his arms onto the sand and made straight for Kukui’s hut with astounding speed.

“Thanks, Charizard.”

Kiawe patted the ride pokémon’s scaly neck gratefully before following her. He found Mimo sprawled out on the porch, playing with the professor’s loyal Rockruff. It barked playfully when it spotted Kiawe, so he paused a moment to scratch the rock-type behind the ears in the way it liked, before straightening up and ringing for Professor Kukui.

There was no response, so he pushed his way through the beaded curtain into the abode, knowing all too well that he was probably engrossed in his work somewhere, too caught up in his thoughts to hear the doorbell. Bypassing a tank in which Luvdisc floated serenely, Kiawe ventured further inside, where at last he found the professor amid crumpled instructions and hardware manuals, working with a screwdriver on a small red gadget Kiawe had never seen before.

“Hello, professor.”

“Oh! Hello, Kiawe!” Kukui greeted him, attempting to cover up how startled he was with a big smile, which Kiawe obligingly returned.

“Hi, Professor!” chimed Mimo, who waved at him through the glass of the fish tank. She had her nose pressed up against the glass, making faces at the Luvdisc.

“Mimo...” Kiawe sighed, “You’ll leave nose prints on the glass.”

But Professor Kukui shook his head good-naturedly.

“It’s alright. It's due a clean anyway. Now, what brings you two here today?”

“Right! I don’t mean to disturb you if you’re working,” Kiawe prefaced, “My Talonflame just laid some eggs—three to be exact—and I’m not sure where to go from here. Was hoping you might have some advice.”

Kukui’s face split into a smile once again. He stood up and beckoned his visitors over to his corner couch, encouraging them to join him with a couple of pats on the upholstery. They followed, as did Rockruff, who was the first to leap up onto the couch and curled up beside its trainer.

“First of all, I gotta know when she laid ‘em.”

“Today, as far as I know.”

“Great, okay. That means you're looking at around a four week hatching period.”

“It should be a bit warmer by then…” Kiawe mused.

This prompted the professor to nod adamantly. “And warmth is going to be important. I’m sure Talonflame will instinctively try to do this, but it’s essential you keep the eggs’ temperature above 150 degrees. Actually—”

Here Kukui jumped to his feet and began to rummage around what looked like a filing cabinet. Mimo rounded the Luvdisc tank to see what he was searching for and a few moments later he triumphantly produced a small thermometer.

“This is specifically designed to measure shell temperatures. It originally belonged to a daycare owner on Poni Island but it was gifted to me; I occasionally use it to go out and check on local fire-type populations.”

Kiawe nodded knowledgeably, as though he’d already been aware that this sort of thing fell into the professor’s remit. He couldn’t help but picture the man deep in the jungle wearing his usual open lab coat and boardshort attire, brandishing the tiny gadget at a bunch of thick-shelled Turtonator eggs. The thought amused him, though he couldn’t help but admire Professor Kukui. In some ways they were birds of a feather—two people who tended to take on many more obligations than one person alone could possibly stay on top of.

“Can I hold it?” Mimo was asking, looking up at the professor with huge, pleading eyes.

Kiawe knew he’d crumble even before Kukui did. He smiled and shook his head at his little sister and her ability to get her way with such remarkable ease.

“Okay, just make sure to be careful with it,” Professor Kukui tapped the bridge of his nose conspiratorially, “I’m entrusting you with some very delicate equipment.”

The girl’s expression immediately shifted to one of determination. She pressed her lips together tightly as she accepted the thermometer with utmost care, holding it in cupped hands. She raised it for Kiawe to see, and he nodded with dutiful seriousness.

“You heard the prof.”

“I’ll come by in a couple weeks and check on them, if you like,” Kukui added as the two siblings made their way towards the door with Rockruff nipping playfully at their heels, “But I’m sure those eggs are in more than capable hands.”

He clapped a hand on Kiawe’s back—a gesture that held more strength than he might have expected—and Kiawe felt heartened that the professor had faith in him and his abilities. Only later did it occur to him that Professor Kukui was using much the same trick on him that he’d used to such great effect on Mimo. He didn’t complain. Instead he ushered her out of the house and back to where Charizard was waiting, dragging its claws in the sand.

“Bye, professor!”

“Bye!”

Like almost all pokémon that weren’t on Kiawe’s own team, Rockruff had a certain level of healthy respect for Charizard; it still bounded up to it, but slowed its pace just before reaching the dragon—no sudden movements that might startle it and incinerate them all. It needn’t have worried, as the Charizard Kiawe had inherited from his grandfather all those years ago, along with his cherished Z-ring, was the most gentle and mild-mannered fire-type imaginable. It lowered its great head to sniff at Rockruff and, when the puppy pokémon eagerly nuzzled its snout, let out a small puff of warm air through its nostrils. Kiawe stroked Charizard’s long, scaly neck until Rockruff bid them farewell with a last cheerful bark and headed back towards the professor’s abode.

It was only then than Kiawe noticed his little sister standing still as a statue, the earnest expression still plastered across her features as she gazed at the gadget in her cupped hands.

“Do you want to put it in my bag?”

“Nuh- _uh_ ,” Mimo shook her head fervently, ponytail bouncing from side to side.

“Okay, then you’d better hold onto it real tight. Make sure you don’t drop it when we’re up in the clouds.”

Their flight home was far more calm than their flight to Melemele. Tucked into the little space in front of him, Mimo cradled the thermometer and clutched at it every time Charizard flapped its wings with particular ferocity, but taking care not to squeeze it too tightly. Thanks to Professor Kukui’s words, she was taking her role more than seriously.

It was with the same earnest conviction that she carried the thermometer into the house once they returned to the farm. Kiawe had to get back to his chores, so he left her to it. The rest of his evening was spent hosing down copious amounts of Mudbray, making sure their rocky fur shone as bright as could be, and even though this task was a rather repetitive one, it didn’t feel as though much time had passed at all before the hot orange sun dipped behind Wela Volcano. He knew that his parents would soon be calling for dinner, so he headed straight back towards the house.

“She won’t stop chattering on about Talonflame,” Kiawe’s mother, Sima, remarked as soon as he entered the kitchen.

Kiawe nodded and shrugged, crossing the small room in a few strides so he could poke his head over her shoulder to see what dinner was going to be. Long grain rice with an assortment of vegetables was browning in a large frying pan, with Sima adding sauces and spices using only her expert eye for measurement.

“It smells delicious,” he remarked truthfully, which made her spin around to face him.

Without any kind of warning, his mother grabbed both his cheeks between her fingers—not squeezing tightly as she might when he had done something wrong, but rather more fondly—and shook her head.

“I still can’t get used to you being taller than me,” she tutted, apropos of nothing, referring to his latest growth spurt which had seen him shoot up almost to rival his father’s stature.

Kiawe rubbed the nape of his neck, embarrassed even though no one else was there.

“Means I’m more useful, doesn’t it?”

Again, Sima should her head, unmistakable warmth in her eyes.

“You’re more than helpful enough, _hiapo_.”

With that she turned around and gave her full attention back to her cooking. When she spoke again, her words sounded more like an afterthought.

“Why don’t you take Mimo out to see Talonflame until dinner’s ready?”


End file.
